


Kirsche und Wasser

by mayamaia



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayamaia/pseuds/mayamaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is one afternoon off too much to ask for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kirsche und Wasser

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FIC FIGHT on ourmenfromuncle.tumblr.com

Napoleon Solo couldn't be too annoyed at his partner. Illya had practically dragged him out of the Zurich headquarters as soon as they made their report, giving "We have exactly six hours, don't waste it" as his only excuse. He had led the way at a brisk pace down the boulevards to the river mouth with Napoleon scrambling to keep up, and now they stood before Illya's so-anticipated destination, Solo had to laugh.

It was a fruit stand, in the sottoportego of an old building on the other side of the river. The selection was excellent, all colors of the rainbow and tastefully displayed, but Kuryakin already knew precisely what he wanted. Two pounds of rich black cherries, the largest and ripest Solo had ever seen. He asked for two bags, and distributed them fairly: twice as many in Illya's bag as in Napoleon's.

Napoleon chuckled as they left the stand at a much more sedate walk than they had arrived. Illya, sucking juice off his palm, raised an eyebrow at him, so he shrugged. "Now that you reached your goal, have you any more plans for us?"

Illya rolled his eyes. "I didn't want them to sell out."

"Was there ever any chance for that?"

"Try one and then ask me again." Napoleon gave him his best skeptical look and popped a cherry in his mouth. His eyebrows rose in appreciation, then scrunched as he looked around for a place to spit out the pit.

Illya shrugged and gestured. "Shall we wander the lake shore, my friend?" It seemed appropriate, so they made their way to the lakeside path, walking silently and eating cherries in the warm sun, spitting pits into the water when nobody was watching.

They were leaning over a low railing, watching swans and ferryboats, when Illya casually spoke up again.

"I'm glad we got out of headquarters when we did, Napoleon."

"Hm. Well, Illya, I still don't see the need for your headlong rush out the door. I could have twisted an ankle rushing after you like that."

"Look at it this way: we had one full hour to enjoy die Sonne am Zürichsee."

Solo turned to give him a confused look, only to discover a rotund and pleasantly smiling man between and behind them, holding an extremely tiny gun at the base of Illya's skull. "I am not alone, gentlemen," the jovial man said, "My fellows stand ready in the building behind us, watching your every move. So if you would please drop your weapons into the lake and come with me."

Illya laughed. Then he moved.

It happened too fast for the jolly little THRUSHman. One moment his prey was trapped before him, and then next he was falling backward with his hand stinging from the blow that had knocked his gun away and two pairs of shoes were disappearing past the edge of the walkway as their owners dove into the waters of Lake Zurich.

Gaining his balance, he rushed to the side, but he knew his firearm would be too inaccurate and his backup too slow.

He could hear voices, but not see them.

"If I get a chill from this dunking, I am going to blame you."

"Well we shall just have to stave that off with a drink at the hotel. Kirschenwasser should do the trick."

"You and your cherries."

Laughter drifted over the water.


End file.
